


The Road That Leads You Home

by liv_andlet_die



Series: Little Talks [7]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), The Flash - All Media Types, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Birdflash - Freeform, Emotional, Family Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Leaving Home, M/M, dickwally, shits gettin deep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 05:20:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15136010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liv_andlet_die/pseuds/liv_andlet_die
Summary: After a final fight with Bruce, Dick falls apart. Wally is there to put him back together.





	The Road That Leads You Home

**Author's Note:**

> What??? Two fics in under 12 hours??? 
> 
> Anything is possible with no sleep, wonderful comments, and sheer force of will. 
> 
> This one's a little different than the other installments of this series. It doesn't focus on Dick and Wally's relationship, but rather shows how their relationship works in other situations. Like angst and drama and Bat-Dad bullshit. 
> 
> As always, thanks so much for your support. Enjoy <3
> 
> ~~~~
> 
> Title inspired by The Oh Hello's "The Truth Is A Cave"
> 
> "And the truth became a tool that I held in my hand  
> I wielded it, but I didn't understand
> 
> I got tired of giving more than you gave to me  
> And I desired a truth I wouldn't have to seek
> 
> But in the silence I heard you calling out to me"

 Wally knows somethings wrong when his knock goes unnoticed. Not once, in all his years of visiting Wayne Manor, has the door remained closed for more than 45 seconds, and that was on Alfred’s slow days. He frowns, glancing around the front of the estate in confusion. He’s never stood on this doorstep for so long. He’s not sure what to do. Should he knock again? Or would that be insulting to the old butler?

Before he can finish the thought, the door swings open, and he’s greeted with the solemn face of Alfred Pennyworth. The older gentleman is as primly pressed and presentable as ever, but his expression is grave, and Wally’s feels a lump in his throat at the sight. It takes a lot of ruffle Alfred’s feathers and have the old man show it.

Something’s _wrong_.

Alfred nods in greeting. “Master Wallace, my apologies.”

“Don’t worry about it, Al.” Wally gives him a half-smile, but his gaze is mildly suspicious.

“Master Richard is expecting you, I presume?”

“Yeah. Um. Alfred, is everything okay…?”

“Yes sir, it-” Alfred had started strong, but he breaks off with a gentle sigh. Wally has never heard him so dejected. “Why don’t you… come in. I’m sure you’ll see for yourself.”

Wally’s mouth has already gone dry, so he just nods and steps across the threshold. Something’s definitely wrong, and Wally’s mind is racing with the possibilities. Alfred closes the door behind him, standing to the side and clasping his hands behind his back. Despite the relaxed stance, Wally can see the tightness around his eyes, and his heart actually starts to break a little. Anything that can crack through Alfred’s composure is cause for concern. Maybe a little fear.

“Alfred, what’s going-”

Wally barely manages to finish his sentence before the loud _bang_ of a door slamming comes from the landing, effectively cutting him off. He jumps a little, spinning on his heel to face the direction of the sound. He has half a mind to run up there and find out _what the hell is happening in this house_ before he sees Dick appear from behind a mahogany pillar at the top of the stairs. His stomach drops at the look on his face.

Even from the front door, Wally can feel the anger coming off Dick in waves. His jaw is tight, set in fury as he speedily descends the staircase. He’s got a duffel bag slung across his back, and one shoulder wrapped in gauze, arm hanging in a sling. Wally’s heart stops when he sees the injury.

Dick didn’t tell him about that.

“Dick, for god’s sake, put the bag down.”

He glances up to see Bruce at the top of the stairs, arms crossed as he stands there all high-and-mighty. Wally’s not sure what’s going on, but if one things for sure, he’s gearing to snatch that bag off his boyfriends shoulder and carry both it and Dick out the front door.

“Dick, stop.”

Wally watches as his boyfriend comes to a halt in the middle of the foyer, staring at the ground for a moment before raising his gaze. Wally has to suppress a shiver when he sees, for the first time, a cold indifference in his boyfriend’s blue eyes. It’s only there for a moment, because as soon as Dick looks up he sees Wally, and some warmth returns to them alongside some surprise. His lips part in shock at seeing the ginger standing there, but then Wally watches as his expression turns to relief, then hard determination.

Dick turns on the spot, his head tilting back to, presumably, look up at Bruce. Wally can’t see Dick’s face anymore, but he can see Bruce’s, and he doesn’t like set of the man’s shoulders when he catches the look Dick must be giving him.

“Dick.” Bruce starts, his tone level but infinitely condescending. It makes Wally want to smack some sense into him. “You know I’m only doing what’s best for you.”

“Save it for someone who cares.”

“Dick.”

“Fuck you.”

Wally’s jaw drops in shock. He’s never heard Dick’s voice with such hostility, especially towards Bruce. He’d never heard _those words_ come out of his mouth towards Bruce. His mentor – his father.

“ _Richard Grayson.”_

Dick spins around again, closing the distance between himself and Wally in two steps and grabbing his wrist as he leads them towards the entrance. Wally follows with no hesitation. Dick stops at the door, staring at the deep brown wood for a moment, then lifting his gaze to meet Alfred’s. Once again, Wally can’t see Dick’s expression, but he watches as something inside Alfred breaks.

The old butler gives him the most subtle nod before opening the door for them, and then Dick’s dragging him outside. Wally wants to run back in there and strangle Bruce with both hands, not caring what he did but wanting so badly to _fix this_. To fix whatever is hurting the two kindest people he knows.

Dick is leading them across the estate, heading in the direction of the garage. Wally reaches out with his free hand and pulls at the duffel bag on Dick’s uninjured shoulder. His boyfriend glances over at that, his gaze still hard, but a little more relenting now that it’s just the two of them. He nods, letting go of Wally’s wrist to let him slip the bag off. The ginger slings it over onto his own back, adjusting the strap and taking Dick’s hand in his, who squeezes it tightly in return. In a few moments they’ve made it to the massive garage, and Dick is inputting a lengthy code to open the door. When they finally walk inside, Wally’s far too distracted by Dick’s slowly crumbling demeanor to notice that his boyfriend has swung a leg over his sport bike.

“Whoa. Babe.”

Dick grabs a helmet off the rack next to him, not looking away from the machine between his legs as he turns the key in the ignition. “What?”

“Your shoulder.”

“What about it?”

“Babe, you can’t ride with one hand.”

“Watch me.”

Wally flinches, recoiling slightly at Dick’s harsh tone. Dick doesn’t even seem to register Wally’s reaction, probably too caught up in his own hurt and anger to realize. Wally bites the inside of his cheek, willing away the twinge in his gut, and drops the duffel bag off his shoulder, holding it out to his boyfriend.

That seems to get Dick’s attention, since he pauses midway through slipping his helmet on. “What are you doing?”

Wally doesn’t respond, simply holds the bag out expectantly. Dick glares up at him through the visor, but Wally holds his resolve.

“Why are you-?”

“Take the bag.”

“Wally-”

“You’re not driving injured and you’re not driving angry. Take the fucking bag, Dick.”

“I’m fine.”

“If you don’t let me drive I will pull the gasline before you can blink.”

Dick lets out a huff of frustration, his jaw clenched, before snatching the bag out of Wally’s hands. Wally tries to take some victory in that, waiting for Dick to shift back on the bike before swinging his own leg over to sit at the front. Dick’s good arm wraps around his waist, the other arm pressed tight against his back, restricted by the sling. Wally’s grabbed another helmet off the rack and slipped it over his head before Dick’s finished adjusting, and Wally glances back at him to make sure he’s secure before starting the bike and taking off out of the garage.

Riding a motorcycle is nowhere near like running at this speed, but Wally still enjoys the rush that comes with the wind whirring past them. They speed off the Wayne Estate, flying through the front gates and down the country roads along the outskirts of Gotham. Wally’s not sure where Dick wants to go at this point, so he’s taking a familiar route towards the city for now.

A soft beeping alerts him to the comm system inside the helmet, and after a moment Dick’s voice is ringing in his ears. “Take a left up ahead.”

Wally complies, leaning into the turn as he follows Dick’s directions. He might’ve argued with Dick before, but that was a concern for his safety over anything else. Now, all he wants to do is make his boyfriend feel better, and that means going where Dick wants to go.

Every few moments Dick’s quiet voice directs him along a route he’s not familiar with. It’s Gotham, so Wally’s not surprised that Dick has the trails and roads memorized. They’ve been driving for about 20 minutes before Wally notices the signs passing him and realizes that they’re heading for the Delaware Bay – the division between Gotham and Metropolis. Another left turn confirms his suspicion, so he pushes the bike a little faster, following the road signs now. Dick goes silent, and Wally takes that as further confirmation that he’s heading the right way.

Wally can feel Dick’s helmet coming to rest between his shoulder blades, no longer watching the road, just trusting his boyfriend to take him where he wants to be. Soon the wall of trees around them breaks, and open water spans out to their left. They’re driving beside the edge of the bay now, up above along a cliff. Wally’s just following the road at this point, not entirely sure where Dick wants him to go, or if he just wants him to keep driving. After a little while the Metro-Narrows Bridge comes into view, connecting Gotham and Metropolis. The bright lights shine across the water, blinking like stars as the waves ebb and flow.

Dick squeezes his waist with his good arm, and the beeping is in his ears again. “Pull over up here, left side.”

Wally notices the gravel shoulder at the side of the road and slows the bike, making sure there’s no one else around him before pulling over. The shoulder comes out about 10 feet from the road, a short metal barrier surrounding the roadside as it comes to the side of the cliff. Dick barely waits for the bike to come to a halt before he’s hopping off, walking towards the edge. Wally scrambles to turn the bike off, just managing to get the kickstand down before he’s jogging after his boyfriend.

Dick vaults over the fence, feet landing firmly on the very edge of the cliff. He doesn’t move, just stands there with his helmet tucked under his arm. Wally stays on the other side, leaning against the barrier. They don’t speak. Just stare out at the twinkling bay of stars and streetlights. The silence is comfortable, even after the past hour of tension. It always is with them. So, Wally just waits.

After a few moments Wally hears Dick sigh, watching as he grips the barrier to steady himself as he sits down on the cliffside. His feet dangle over the edge, disturbing rock and dust and sending it down into the sea of trees below. Wally climbs the fence with a little more caution than his boyfriend, shifting carefully on the balls of his feet as he clambers over to sit next to him.

Dick leans into Wally’s side the moment he’s settled, resting his cheek on the red head’s shoulder.

“Sorry for being an ass, before…”

Wally presses a kiss to the top of Dick’s head. “S’okay, not your fault.”

He goes silent again for a while, chest rising and falling with a steady breath. An arm snakes around Wally’s waist, holding him closer, and Wally returns the gesture by wrapping his own arm around Dick’s back. Wally nudges his nose against Dick’s temple, pressing another kiss there too.

“You wanna talk about it? Or leave it for now?”

He sighs, turning his head to bury his face against Wally’s neck. “Dunno…”

Wally swallows, wondering if this is a time Dick needs him to push or just wait. “Wanna start with what happened to your shoulder?”

Dick shifts uncomfortably at the mention of his injury. He’s leaning against Wally on that side, but not heavily enough to cause damage or pain. “It’s kind of the reason all of this is fucked up in the first place.”

“How so?”

“I got shot.”

Wally’s heart lurches in his chest and his head is snapping to the side to stare down at the back of his boyfriends head. _“Shot?”_

“Yeah. One of Two-Face’s goons got lucky. Straight through though, didn’t have to dig the bullet out. It’s healing fine, Alfred gives it about two months before I’m anywhere near functioning with it, about three-six months to fully heal.”

Wally rolls his eyes at Dick’s clinical explanation of the wound. Any reference to the fact that he just gave his boyfriend a heart attack? Nope. Not like Wally was really expecting it, though.

“You gonna be okay out of the field for that long? I know what it means to you.”

The arm around his waist tightens even further, and now Dick’s hand is fisting in the bottom of his shirt.

“That’s… the problem.” He’s speaking through clenched teeth, and Wally can feel the tension and anger rising in him again.

Wally plants another kiss on Dick’s forehead, trailing his fingers up and down his spine. Dick relaxes into the touch like he always does, his weight falling a little heavier against Wally’s side. “What do you mean?”

“Bruce tried to bench me.”

He nods. “Well, yeah, I mean three to six months isn’t-”

“Permanently.”

Wally pauses, staring out at the water in confusion. “Wait – what?”

“He tried to… to make me stop. Being Nightwing. Ordered me to.”

_“What?”_

“Yeah.”

“He- wait- He tried to make you _stop being a hero?”_

Dick presses his lips together tightly, nodding in response. Wally wonders how much effort it’s taking him not to explode right now.

Wally is the only person Dick feels comfortable enough with to release his emotions like that. So, when he’s had to hold it in and be the voice of reason for long enough, his temper will get the better of him and the next time he see’s Wally he’ll just rant. For ages. Wally’s spent hours watching Dick pace holes through the floor, nodding along as the young acrobat goes _on and on_ about whatever it is that’s got him going that month.

Not that he’s ever minded. For Wally, it’s a privilege to be his confidant. To the one person Dick can say anything to.

“We really had it out this time.” Dick finally speaks, his voice tight with barely contained rage. “ _Really_ went for it. Said some… not-great things…”

“Who?”

“Both of us.”

“ _What_ could he have said?”

Wally can feel Dick’s jaw clenching against his shoulder. “Don’t really want to repeat it.”

“I’m gonna-”

“Walls…” Dick interrupts him before he can even start. “Please… don’t.”

Wally takes the hand that’s curled over his hip and squeezes gently in apology. He has a tendency to go off about Bruce sometimes, but that’s not always what Dick needs.

“He… he tried to take it away, Walls. He made me into Robin, gave me the tools to be who I am today, and then he tries to take all of it away?” The end of that sentence comes out in breathy disbelief. “I get that this scared him, it scared me too, but… Bruce _made_ me into a hero, he can’t just…”

“No, he didn’t.”

Dick stills in his arms, then lifts his head to finally look up at Wally in confusion. “…what?”

Wally shifts, turning to face his boyfriend properly. Dick sits up, no longer leaning against him. “Bruce did not make you a hero.”

“Yeah, he-”

“No, Bruce made you a vigilante. He taught you to fight and solves crimes and shit.” Wally lifts his other hand to cup Dick’s cheek, thumb running gently over his cheekbone. “You’ve always been a hero, it’s who you are. You care so much about people that, at the most basic level, you _always_ do what’s best for those who need you. You didn’t need to be taught that. You’re the best of all of us, Dick, and ten times the hero – the man – that Bruce will ever be.”

Dick is leaning heavily into his palm, and Wally sighs as he feels hot tears start to leak onto his fingers. He pulls him into a tight hug, being careful of his injured shoulder, because Dick is shaking with emotion now. Wally feels a wet gasp for breath against his neck as Dick’s buries his face there, clinging to the red head like his life depends on it. Wally just rocks him gently, one hand stroking through his hair while the other rubs his back. It’s like a ritual at this point, comforting Dick. He knows what Dick needs and just how to deliver it. So, he just sits there, holding his boyfriend, waiting for the tidal wave of grief to pass.

“I-…” Dick chokes on his words, and Wally tries to hush him silent, but he’s adamant to speak. “I packed… I left, Walls. I d-don’t… I don’t have a home anymore…”

Wally shakes his head fervently. “Yes you do. You have plenty of homes. You have my place, the cave. Hell, you can stay with Aunt I and Uncle Barry, I’m sure they wouldn’t-”

“No, Walls…” His voice is barely a whisper now. “Those are… pit stops. Not… a home.”

Wally bites his lip, not sure how to respond.

“It’s been a long time…” Dick continues. “since I’ve been without a real home. I… don’t remember what it’s like, anymore…”

Wally leans back to look his boyfriend in the eyes, his favourite pair of baby blues shining with tears and bloodshot to hell. They’re still beautiful.

He takes Dick’s face in both hands, pressing their foreheads together. “Then we’ll make you a home, baby. We’ll find someplace for you to make your own. I promise.”

For the first time that night, Dick’s lips tilt up into a small smile.

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart.”

“I love you, Wally…”

Wally smiles, pressing a gentle kiss to each of Dick’s tear-stained cheeks, then one soft peck to his lips. “I love you.”

They just sit there for a while in comfortable silence, Dick hiccupping his way through the emotional burnout he’s probably experiencing. Wally goes back to rubbing small circles into his back, a smooth rhythm memorized from years of care.

He rests his chin on top of Dick’s head as it comes to sit on his shoulder again. Wally knows that this is nowhere near the end of all this. Bruce will either try to finish what he started or ignore it entirely like the emotionally constipated bastard that he is. It’ll take weeks before Dick is stable again, and even longer to find him a place to live. And without being able to take it all out to the rooftops, it’s going to be ten times harder for him.

But Wally’s going to be there for him every step of the way.

For now, they’re sitting on a cliffside, watching starlight dance off of dark blue water. They’re watching cars drive along the Metro-Narrows Bridge, people’s lives coming and going as they cross.

They’re together. They’re okay.

And for now, that’s enough.


End file.
